


Just Don't Kiss Me

by Zeeava



Series: Kiss me [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, One-Sided Relationship, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeeava/pseuds/Zeeava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif helps Simmons get past all the teasing about being a virgin, by offing to make him no longer one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pfennings on tumblr~~
> 
> It's a little shorter than I usually like but I'm really happy with this >v

            “No, fuck you. Grif, this is taking a joke a little too far, don’t you think?” Simmons said in distaste, scrunching his nose under his helmet.

            “No it’s not, and besides it won’t be a joke anymore this way, right?” Grif tried to reason.

            “That’s a pretty bullshit reason, even coming from you.” Simmons sighed pulling his chest plate off.

            “Oh fuck off!” Grif scoffed ripping his helmet off his head; pout-scowling at the maroon ass-hat.

            “Oh sure, keep talking like that because _that_ will make me want to sleep with you.” Simmons swooned sarcastically.

            Grif sighed. “Seriously dude, it’s a valid offer. But only for a limited time,” he rounded his way behind Simmons, whose eyes were trained on him wearily. “I’m trying to do you a favour here, but I’m not going to be generous for very long.”

            With a smirk, he grabs Simmons’ hips and yanks him back, bringing his back flush to his chest. With practised hands, he unclips the armor and lets it fall to the floor with a loud clank.

            “Hey! I know you’re trying to make a point, but don’t be a dick to my armor! If you break it it’ll take forever for command to send the supplies to fix it!” Simmons cried pulling away from Grif to pick up the fallen armor and place it neatly with the rest of his armor.

            “Fair enough. But anyway, I still don’t hear an answer…” Grif teased.

            “Ugh! Fine, Jesus Christ!” Simmons yelled in defeat.

            “I’m not forcing you. I just wanted an answer…” Grif said, backing up to give him space.

            “I know that! Just...ugh! It’s not exactly the easiest decision to make when you’re put on the spot, not to mention the fact that you were physically coming on to me while I was still deciding.” Simmons said, looking to the floor.

            “Okay, so can you take your helmet off?” Grif asked reaching up to grab it.

            Simmons swatted his hand away quickly, “No, this is my one condition. You can have my virginity, just don’t kiss me. My helmet is staying on.”

            “ _Seriously_ , dude?” Grif was flabbergasted. “That’s ridiculous.”

            “Either it stays on, or your offer is officially refused.” Simmons said, finishing taking off all his armor but his helmet.

            “This has become really fucked up…”  Grif sighed walking forward and resting his forehead on Simmons’ shoulder.

            “Yeah…” he muttered reaching back to thread his fingers in Grif’s hair.

 _‘I can’t believe I expected it to be anything but fucked up,’_ Grif smiled to himself, humming at the thought, and the feel of thin fingers threading through his hair. _‘Fucked up is better than not at all.’_

His smile warped into a smirk and he reached forward and once more brought Simmons’ hips back to him, bodies coming flushed together. His hands began to wander, one up his chest the other wrapped around his waist. He could feel the fingers in his hair clench and unclench, and the soft tremble every so often.

            “Calm down,” Grif whispered placing his lips gently to his shoulder, squeezing him in what he hoped was a reassuring hug.

            “I am calm, jack-ass...” Simmons scoffed turning his head away from Grif and removing his fingers from his hair.

            Grif smirked and took advantage of Simmons' now opened neck, and placed kisses along the exposed flesh. Hand still wandering the expanse of Simmons’ chest ever so lightly, sending shivers and goose-bumps over every part of him. Under his helmet Simmons’ face was getting tinged with red, he had to lightly bite his lip because oh god was he ever embarrassed.

            He had honestly never imagined his first time. It wasn’t something that was too important to him. This, however, would definitely _not_ be a contender in his first-time fantasies. There was something good to say though, Grif’s hands felt so soft, so good… _‘Oh fuck off mind. I don’t need this from you right now.’_ A shiver brought him out of his thoughts, Grif was running his fingers over his collar bone and with his other hand he was running them over his abdomen. Simmons bit his lip a little harder, his arms hung at his sides stiff with his hands curled into tight fists.

            “You don’t feel calm,” Grif said bringing both his hands running over Simmons’s stomach, kneading them into the muscles. “In fact you seem rather tense.”

            “Oh, fuck off!” Simmons retorted.

            “Keep talking like that, that’ll make me want to sleep with you.” Grif quoted him with a grin.

            “I knew it, this was a horrible idea.” Simmons said.

            He started to pull away but Grif held him firmly in place. “Come on, I’m just bugging. Seriously, though, relax. It’s not going to kill you.”

            Simmons let out a shaky breath and relaxed into the soft touches. Grif smiled endearingly and resumed his hands’ exploration; one hand went down and the other up. He applied pressure or was feather light where need be. Simmons was squirming under his touch. Face now fully flushed, Simmons’ was having a _really_ hard time not moaning. The skin of his lip was threatening to give way under the constant pressure from his teeth that he had imbedded in it, Grif was ripping him apart in the most sensual of ways.

            On the other hand, Grif was having a hell of a time holding back. He could feel every tremor, every little shiver that should have been accompanied by a gasp. It was driving him insane. But he knew he had to take his time, make it good, make it memorable; it was the most fucking effort he had put into anything that he can remember, ever.

            He was careful to only tease until he got the go-ahead for more, fingers edging a little too far down and going just under the waistband of the standard issue grey sweatpants. His other hand paying special attention to his nipple area, and collarbone, which was apparently just as sensitive.

            Simmons was reaching a breaking point in his resolve, he had reached the point where yes, he could admit that Grif’s hands felt fantastic touching him all over, and he could think of a place where he would like them better—NOPE not going there. He had to chastise himself for those traitorous thoughts that dreamt of more. However he was having no difficulties with not wanting more—

            Until Grif dragged his nails lightly down his chest, pulling the collar of his t-shirt down with them.

            “Ah… shit…” Simmons cursed through clenched teeth as the moan escaped him.

            Grif felt a sharp throb in his lower region, _‘Shit, that’s hot,’_ he thought as he raked his teeth over the still exposed patch of skin of Simmons’ neck.

            Simmons’ hands flew up and grabbed hold of Grif’s, instead of ripping them off like he had planned in his head he found himself holding them firmly close to his body. Fingers laced between fingers he couldn’t make himself let go, internally he was screaming. _‘WHAT THE FUCK, SHOVE HIM OFF YOU IDIOT. HE’S JUST GOING TO MAKE FUN OF YOU!’_

            Empowered, Grif ran his hand down and palmed the hardening dick through Simmons' pants. Simmons shivered and gasped, his hands clenched harder to Grif’s. Sure hands caressed him and he couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped him. Simmons’ mind was reeling, it was almost dizzying to the virgin to have his blood flood south to fuel his forming erection. The fact that part of what he was feeling was his own fingers, made it that much sexier.

            “I’m going to make you cum in your pants.” Grif murmured in a low, husky tone.

            Simmons made an undignified noise as Grif picked up the pace and began to apply more pressure. His other hand remained pressed firmly to the middle of his chest, holding him in place. His maroon helmet was incredibly in the way, Simmons was finding. Grif was placing kisses and nips over the exposed part of his neck, which was not a large area. It was maddening, but he stuck with his word.

            And Grif was sure sticking to his. Simmons groaned, he could feel a weird pressure in his lower abdomen which he could only assume was an impending orgasm. He wanted to cry he was so embarrassed; his first orgasm was going to be in his pants. At the hands of his fellow soldier. In the middle of the base. Where they all slept.

            “Oh, f-fuck…” he cursed.

            Simmons keeled forward, held up only by Grif’s secure grip. He shot his load right into Grif’s hand, dampening the fabric between them. Grif smirked into Simmons’ shoulder, proud that he managed to get him to come without direct contact. Slowly he removed himself from Simmons’, giving him time to regain his balance so he didn’t just fall to the floor without his support.

            “You’re a dick!” Simmons said grimacing as he stood up straight, feeling the sticky mess in his pants rub against him.

            “Okay, that’s not really the first thing I thought you’d say after something like that.” Grif gave a puzzled look.

            “How am I supposed to explain this to Donut? He does the whole team's laundry!”

            “I don’t know, tell him you had an amazing dream.” Grif suggested with a wink.

            “Oh yeah, sure, inflate your ego even _more_ , please. Don’t let me stop you.” Sarcasm was almost dripping from Simmons’ lips.

            “Hey I did just get you off, a little more thanks would be nice!”

            Simmons only hummed in response, he was far more interested in getting out of his soiled pants. “Hey, turn around for a second.”

            “Seriously?” Grif’s face scrunched in confusion.

            “Yes, now shut up and do it.” Simmons ordered, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “Fine.” Grif sighed turning on the spot.

            Simmons was quick about fixing himself up. He pulled his helmet off and removed his shirt and pants, placing them with the rest of the dirty laundry in the corner. Pulling on a clean pair of boxers he spared an un-obstructed glance back at Grif, it wasn’t often that they got time off where they could actually be out of their gear. He was surprisingly toned, still pretty chubby but there was still the muscle of a solider under it all. A blush spread across his cheeks and he put his helmet back on.

            “You can turn back now…” he said quietly.

            “I don’t see why I had to turn around in the first place,” Grif grumbled.

            “For decency!”

            “What decency? I just gave you a hand job that lasted less than 5 minutes!” Grif yelled.

            “It was not that short.” Simmons said, shifting in place awkwardly.

            “Whatever, that’s not important,” Grif shrugged, “now sit down.”

            Simmons shot him a confused look, “Why?” he asked.

            “Because, you’re going to lose your virginity, moron.” Grif said like it was the most obvious thing ever, which it was.

            “What?! I thought we were done!” Simmons shrieked, stepping back away from Grif.

            “Really? How sheltered were you?” Grif asked. “This is just sad…”

            Simmons’ grumbled to himself and glared at Grif as he sat in place on the floor. Grif smirked and kneeled in front of him; wasting no time he pushed gently on his shoulder and made him lay down. He situated himself between Simmons’ legs, reaching forward he ran his hands over his now exposed chest. From this angle he could now get a look at him properly. He took the sight in with his hands just as much as his eyes; he caressed every part of his torso he could reach.

            Simmons was incredibly embarrassed and felt completely exposed. He could see Grif’s face and how concentrated he was on his body. It was such a serious and intense gaze it made the hands running along him feel like razorblades ripping into him to see beyond what was on the outside. Electrified razorblades, because each pass of those hands over certain spots sent jolts through him causing involuntary shivers.

            Grif was entranced by the smooth skin. He couldn’t help but stare, as he learned it all with his hands. But it was soon not enough. He braced one hand on the floor and leaned forward over top of him, his other hand continued to run along his torso. Careful not to hit his head on that damn helmet he leaned down and nipped at Simmons’ collar bone. Simmons’ gasped sharply and tensed up, he never knew he was sensitive there.

            Grif sat back for a moment, only long enough to shoot a smug grin at Simmons’ before leaning back down and covering his chest with soft kisses. The kisses were sweet but slightly skewed by the near permanent grin stuck on Grif’s face. Simmons’ was having a terrible time trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing with himself. He was squirming beneath Grif with his legs spread and his arms pressed to his sides, trying to claw holes in the floor.

            Grif let his hand wander a little lower and caressed Simmons’ stomach and abdomen. Simmons groaned and reached up and grabbed at Grif’s shoulders. He clung to him as hard as he could, it felt like he was falling apart and Grif was the only thing tangible left. It was taking longer than before for him to get an erection but wow, yep, he was getting another one. The feeling was overwhelming, he wanted to feel the same as he did before, and he wanted it as soon as possible. Without thinking he raised his hips into Grif’s hand.

            Getting the loud hint Grif ran his hand under the waist band of Simmons’ boxers and gripped the forming erection. He stroked it lazily, but firmly, coaxing it up without running the possibility of him coming too quickly. He had much better plans that required him to have some energy left.

            Carefully he scooted himself backwards, trailing his kisses down as he went. _All_ the way down. Simmons’ shivered and moaned, his hands clenched and unclenched their grip on the flesh of Grif’s shoulders. Grif, no longer needing the support, used his free hand to pull Simmons’ boxers down and off.

            At some point Simmons’ hands found their way to Grif’s hair and were holding the hair firmly, pushing him down. Grif complied happily and stopped jacking him off long enough to position himself just right. He grabbed his thighs and spread him even more, a quiet muffled moan made him laugh. Mindful of his teeth but without hesitation he took Simmons’ erection in his mouth and began to suck.

            Simmons cried out in pleasure which drawled into a long groan, his fingers tangled themselves further into Grif’s hair. Grif sucked like a pro, and got his hands in on it, one making up for what he couldn’t get in his mouth and the other massaging his balls. Simmons was a writhing mess, moaning freely now, he was louder than the guns that frequently fired at Grif.

            “Slow d-down,” he stuttered, pulling up on Grif’s hair urgently.

            “Mmm,” Grif hummed in response and pulled off with a soft pop.

            Not missing a beat Grif licked at the hard dick, down to his balls, and past to the perineum. Grabbing his hips Grif hoisted Simmons upwards, sitting up he maneuvered so his back was on his lap and his legs were around his shoulders. No longer able to reach his head, Simmons grabbed at Grif’s arms, which were wrapped around his waist securely.

            A startled warble that could have been heard outside the base escaped Simmons. Grif licked again and again at his asshole. He was lapping at it like it actually tasted good, which it didn’t it tasted like shit but what could you expect. This was all for Simmons’ pleasure after all, not his, he had to make sure he did everything he could to make it good for him. Your first time is important, you will always remember your first.

            “P-please!” Simmons cried. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for; he just knew he needed to ask. For something, anything, more!

            And Grif delivered.

            Carefully he removed one arm to grab something out of his pocket. A packet of lube, the only reason he had this on hand was because he had been planning this for a while. Quickly with his teeth he opened a small hole in the top and put a line on his finger from tip to knuckle.

            “This is gonna hurt and/or feel gross,” Grif warned as he lined his finger up with the hole.

            “Thanks for the heads up, asshole,” Simmons breathed.

            With a smirk to himself Grif smeared some of the lube from his finger around the outside of the hole, and slowly but surely worked it inside. Simmons grunted and squirmed but otherwise showed no other signed of discomfort, so Grif pressed on, working the finger in an out slowly, changing the angle each time. Simmons grimaced; it was definitely more gross than painful. Grif kissed and nipped at Simmons’ inner-thighs while he worked his hole open.

            “Is this necessary?” Simmons asked wearily.

            Stopping what he was doing Grif pulled his finger out and wiped it on his pants absently, “Not really, it’s more of a courtesy than anything.”

            “I don’t like it…” Simmons said quietly.

            “That’s fine, I don’t have to. But it’s probably going to hurt.”

            “I think I’d rather be in pain than deal with how gross this is.”

            “Fair enough,” Grif laughed, carefully sliding Simmons off his lap and back onto the floor. "Wait, if you thought that felt gross are you sure you want to do this?”

            “Yeah, I mean… I agreed to give you my virginity right…” Simmons mumbled.

            “I’m just asking because what we’ve already done can count, if you feel it does.”

            “No. I’m sure.” He said sitting up and tugging the bottom of Grif’s shirt up.

            “Okay then,” Grif laughed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side.

            Simmons laid back again and watched Grif undress, taking advantage of the fact that Grif couldn’t see his face he gawked openly. For some reason he found Grif _really_ attractive right now, with his muscular arms and pudgy belly, messy hair and lazy gaze. He was getting self-conscious of his own looks. His breathing nearly stopped as he watched Grif tug his pants down and off, throwing them aside in the general direction he had his shirt. Simmons bit his lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to leave his lips when Grif reached down and took hold of his own dick.

            _‘Stupid thing why can’t it just stay hard the whole time,’_ Grif thought angrily as he worked his dick back up. He kept his head down but couldn’t help but look at Simmons who was spread eagle, stark naked, staring up at him. A blush made its way all the way down his neck. It didn’t take very long for him to be more than half hard, which was good enough. Grabbing the package of lube he applied a small amount to his fingers, which he then wrapped around his dick coating it as evenly as he could.

            Simmons swallowed hard, the scene before him was admittedly pretty hot. However he was nervous as hell. Who wouldn’t be though, he was about to have a dick in his ass. Grif’s dick. He was going to be fucked by Grif. Earlier today that might have been a little more scary than it was now; now it was exciting.

            “Try and stay relaxed, this is gonna hurt like a bitch,” Grif warned as he grabbed Simmons’ legs and pulled him into his lap once more, this time he was half leaning over him.

            “Thanks for the warning, I would have never guessed.” Simmons responded sarcastically.

            “You’re welcome,” Grif said with a smile.

            Lining himself up Grif watched Simmons closely for any signs of discomfort, seeing none out of the expected he pressed against him. He held his hips firmly and in one calculated thrust he pushed himself all the way in. Simmons gave a small shout that warped into a short whimper. Grif winced, but it was less painful to go in all at once than it was to draw it out and to be fair, he wasn’t especially big.

            “You okay?”

            “You are an ass and I hate you.” Simmons growled.

            “Great! That went better than expected then!” Grif said happily.

            “Wonderful,” Simmons was dripping sarcasm.

            Grif shot him a smile and breathed quickly, “Here we go.”

            Grif rocked back and pulled Simmons away, his grip on his hips firm. Slowly he rocked his hips forward and brought Simmons’ back to meet him. Simmons grunted and grasped desperately at the floor, it didn’t hurt as much as it did initially but it was still an uncomfortable sting. A half beat later Grif repeated the motion, with a little more force.

            Simmons groaned.

            Grif paced himself, ever so slightly increasing his strength on every rock of his hips. More, and more, and more, until he found a steady rhythm. Each rock of his hips elicited a low moan from Simmons. Being inside Simmons felt fantastic, he was worried he was going to come before they were ready to. He bit his lip as he smirked. It wasn’t a smug smirk, or at least he hoped it wasn’t. Part of him was just really happy he got to be Simmons’ first.

            Simmons was losing his cool.

            He moaned loudly at a particularly strong thrust, throwing his arms up above his head and pushing off the ground back onto Grif. Simmons had never imagined getting fucked in the ass would feel like this, it was significantly less painful than people had always made it out to be and it felt _good_ even though not once did Grif hit his prostate. He knew that much about his anatomy. The feeling of the thrusts was what was getting him the most, the movement, the slap of their bodies. He couldn’t help himself, he started rocking his hips himself.

            Grif groaned, deep and huskily.

            With Simmons moving his hips himself Grif let go and leaned over top of him, resting his hands on either side of his helmet. This angle brought stronger thrusts. Simmons gasped and gyrated down on Grif, grinding himself onto Grif’s thrusts. Simmons reached up and dug his fingers into Grif’s back, holding on for dear life. Grif thrust into him with swift full thrusts, rocking Simmons’ whole body.

            Simmons moaned, loud.

            Wrapping his legs around Grif’s waist, he gasped and choked on a moan. The new angle was even better than the last. Simmons gave up all attempts to hide his voice. His nails made little red trails down Grif’s back, the lines crossed and overlapped as he was brought closer and closer. He quickly removed one hand from Grif’s back and brought it down to stroke his now mostly flaccid dick back to life. He didn’t have to do much more than hold his hand there as Grif was rocking him forward into his hand.

            They were getting close and they both knew it.

            Grif resorted to grinding himself into Simmons, who met him gyrating his own hips. He had to rebuild some stamina for the final wave. His breathing was heavy as he looked down between them and watched Simmons work his dick. It made his own erection throb inside the tight muscle of Simmons’ ass. He raised his gaze and was met with a warped reflection of his own face. He frowned. That fucking helmet.

            Simmons was confused as to why he was getting frowned at, was he not doing good? Should he be doing something more? He gasped and groaned a throaty moan as Grif suddenly sped up again, pounding into him with much more gusto than before. He threw his head back and moaned his name, he could feel himself growing so close to the edge.

            Suddenly the thrusts stopped and his helmet was ripped off his head, and just as fast as they stopped they started again. Grif leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss. Simmons moaned into the kiss and wrapped his arm around his neck holding him close so he couldn’t back away. He shuttered, his whole body shook and he came hard all over their stomachs. Grif groaned and picked up his pace.

            Simmons laid there panting, his arm had dropped to his side and Grif had broken the kiss. Quickly Grif slipped out and thrust himself against Simmons, rubbing their dicks together. His cum shot out and mixed with Simmons’ on his stomach and some even got up to his chest. He leaned back up and off of Simmons before collapsing back onto his ass.

            When Simmons caught his breath he propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Grif. “You dick.”

            “No, you’re Dick. I’m Dexter.” Grif said with a laugh, laying back and pressing his back to the cool floor.

            “Shut up you know what I mean! What was the one thing I said as my terms to this agreement?” he shot angrily.

            “Don’t ki—“ Grif started.

            “That’s right, don’t kiss me!” Simmons yelled as he got up.

            He walked over to where Grif lay on the ground and knelt down beside him. Leaning over him he pressed his lips to Grif’s with passion. Grif was surprised, even more so when a tongue slipped past his lips. The kiss was far too brief for Grif’s taste; Simmons controlled it the whole time and it was great. Simmons pulled away and Grif’s heart jumped into his throat and every functioning part of his body stopped.         

            Simmons turned and walked away grabbing a set of clean clothes from the clean laundry pile as he went, dressing before he made it outside.

            “What was that face!?” Grif called after him, more confused than he had ever been in his life. “Simmons! What did that mean?! Simmons!”

            “Why did you look sad?!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif thinks about things for once, and Simmons lets a little loose.  
> Tucker is a dick but in a useful way, Wash is a huge dick. That's it. Not even in a useful way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, but I honestly intended for it to be a oneshot. Now it's going to be at least 3 or 4 chapters. And there is plans for a spin-off for Tucker/Wash that will be in the same universe as this fic!
> 
> HUGE shout out to my beta gavinsdiary.tumblr.com !!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy uvu

          “What was the one thing I said as my terms to this agreement?” he shot angrily.

          “Don’t ki—“ Grif started.

          “That’s right, don’t kiss me!” Simmons yelled as he got up.

          He walked over to where Grif lay on the ground and knelt down beside him. Leaning over him he pressed his lips to Grif’s with passion. Grif was surprised, even more so when a tongue slipped past his lips. The kiss was far too brief for Grif’s taste; Simmons controlled it the whole time and it was great. Simmons pulled away and Grif’s heart jumped into his throat as every functioning part of his body stopped.

          Simmons turned and walked away, grabbing a set of clean clothes from the clean laundry pile as he went and dressing before he made it outside.

          “What was with that face!?” Grif called after him, more confused than he had ever been in his life. “Simmons! What did that mean?! Simmons!”

          “Why did you look sad?!”

 

**Some years later…**

 

          “So, are you going to tell me yet?” Grif asked lazily, draping himself over the shitty sandbag wall.

          “No, and knock it off with the virgin jokes.” Simmons said through grit teeth. “You should know better than anyone that’s not true.”

          “After all we’ve been through I can’t believe you’re still mad,” Grif sighed.

          “Of course I’m still mad! After all we’ve been through, I can’t believe you still haven’t figured it out yet you moron!” Simmons cried crushing the pop can in his hand violently.

          “Hey! No need to be insulting!” Grif pouted.

          “Ugh! Just… Fuck off, I need to finish cleaning this hell hole before Sarge comes back.” Simmons muttered throwing the wrecked can into the garbage bag propped open against the entrance ramp.

          Grif’s shoulders slumped and he made his exit, thankful for the cover his helmet provided. That way Simmons didn’t have to see the disappointment on his face.

\- - - - -

          “So I’m guessing asking for the ten-thousandth time didn’t work?”

          Grif shot him a murderous look.

          “Fair enough…” he laughed half-heartedly “What now?”

          “I don’t know, I’ve already done the binge-eating and the crying to you, so I’m stumped, other than asking him again.” Grif sighed, burying his face into his hands.

          “I have no idea how you’ve managed to survive this long,” he laughed again. “I knew the second you told me—No, shut up, I already told you; it’s not for me to say!”

          “This is such bullshit.” Grif pouted.

          “No, what’s bullshit is how emotionally constipated you both are,” he quipped.

          “Says the one with the awkward boner for Agent Jackass,” Grif grumbled shooting him a weak glare.

          “Th--That’s a low blow…” Tucker scoffed, sinking into himself.

          Grif sulked to himself as Tucker shuffled about awkwardly, probably making sure Wash wasn’t around to hear that. Being stuck in yet another boxed-canyon had been hell. So much had happened since his brief “romance” with Simmons back at Blood Gulch and yet everything had stayed the same. He still hadn’t gotten an answer from Simmons about why he was so sad; he still didn’t even know why kissing was such a big deal.

          “I don’t get why this matters so much to you to know,” Tucker sighed, changing the topic back to Grif.

          “Because, I have no idea why he looked sad. Angry I could understand, but sad?” Grif ranted. “People normally aren’t sad; I’m not that bad…”

          “Why did you fuck him anyways?” Tucker asked giving him a side-glance.

          “Hey! We had sex, there’s a difference.” Grif corrected without a second thought.

          “Yeah ok, but seriously why?” Tucker pressed on. “You never tell me.”

          Grif’s tongue was tied; why did he do that with Simmons? He knew he had a motive at the time…

          “Because he wanted me to stop teasing him about being a virgin, so I offered to help make that joke void.” Grif answered, but it sounded more like a question, even to him.

          “Wow.” Tucker let out a deep sigh “Fucking incredible. No attraction, no nothing, just for the sake of a joke that you never even bothered to stop telling anyway…”

          Tucker felt almost bad for asking, Grif looked so lost. He had no choice though, other than telling him outright. But that wouldn’t actually solve anything. Tucker wasn’t exactly a great role model when it came to dating, but he could at least tell when the other person liked him (A skill Grif was continuing to fail to grasp). Grif did have all the answers, he was just too dumb to see or accept any of them.

\- - - - -

          Simmons panted heavily as he tied off the last bag of garbage. Taking his frustration out on cleaning was very satisfying. But remembering why he was angry in the first place brought a sharp pain to his chest that left him suffocated. He wished to the end of the galaxy and back that Grif would just let it go so he could forget. It was so easy for them to act like nothing ever happened, but every time he thought he was over it Grif would bring it up and things would fall apart again.

          It was always painful to remember; he should have never agreed to Grif’s stupid idea. It was a stupid crush, and all he wanted was to ease that curiosity, but that idiot just had to take his helmet off. Simmons punched the wall and small cracks appeared. He sighed; stupid robot parts. Even if he told Grif why he was so upset, how could he ever expect a favourable outcome when he was like this!

          Simmons kicked the garbage bag off to the side with the rest and stormed off. He made it halfway to the bathroom before he collapsed with a choked sob. He leaned himself against the wall and tore off his gauntlets, throwing them down beside him before doing the same with his helmet. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, hoping in vain to stop the tears he thought he was out of already. He didn’t need to wipe at his left eye, but it gave him some sense of normality to do it anyway. Simmons didn’t cry often but when he did, it was because of that lazy asshole.

\- - - - -

          Tucker rubbed Grif’s back in small circles; they were in their armour but it was a comforting gesture all the same. Grif was a mess, even more so than usual. Tucker felt bad for pushing him this hard. He wished it was easier but it was really up to Grif to figure it out, he was just trying to make it easier. Steer him in the right direction and pray. It was hard but they were making progress. To be fair, he had his own problems to deal with too, and they just so happened to don fugly Blue and Yellow armour.

          Grif’s breathing shuttered again as he tried in vain to stop what felt like a heart attack, but he knew now to be a panic attack. Tucker helped, he had no idea when they became friends but he was definitely grateful for it… When he ignored the part where he slept with his sister… And the fact that he was a raging asshole most of the time… And--

          “Y’know…” Tucker started quietly.

          “Hm?” Grif hummed.

          “I don’t think I’ve asked before, why did you kiss him?” Tucker asked, hand stilling on Grif’s back.

          “Because…” Grif stopped short of an actual answer.

          Why did he?

          “I think if you can answer that then you’d have more to work with.” Tucker said getting up and grabbing his discarded weapon. “I gotta go before Wash suspects I’m not actually doing whatever it was I said I was going to do.”

          Grif nodded dumbly, not bothering to look up.

          Why did he? Because it suited the mood? Because they were having sex and that’s a thing you do? Why did Simmons kiss him after yelling at him for that anyway?

          Grif cried out in frustration. There were so many questions and not enough answers. Tucker was almost no help, always just adding more questions. Picking himself off the ground, he threw his weapon onto his back and made his way back to Red base; there was no use staying here any longer. He had to be slow and sneaky though; the last thing he needed was Sarge finding him and accusing him of fraternizing with the “enemy”, again.

\- - - - -

          Simmons sat on the floor, back pressed against the cool wall. His head pounded so hard his ears were ringing. He glared at his armour that he had stacked in a neat pile opposite him. His helmet stared empty back at him. All at once memories flooded back to that day. His face flushed and his body heated up despite being pressed against the cool surface. He wanted to cry as he brought his legs up to his chest, hiding his shameful reaction.

          He tried to will it away thinking about all the times he’d almost died, only to be betrayed by his own mind. He remembered back when he and Grif were going to be killed by their own team. He remembered how fucking close he was to telling him the truth. His body heaved, a dry sob raked through him though no sound left him. It was so cruel, how Grif could be so idiotically free from any guilt he should have. And here he was a fucking mess.

          Simmons dropped his head in defeat, there was no way he could avoid this this time. Slowly he brought his knees apart, baring his shame to the empty room. Simmons didn’t masturbate often but when he did, it was because of that damned memory. He reached down with his still human hand, letting it ghost over the flesh of his torso, purposefully avoiding the parts where robotics peaked through flesh. He hated them. Yeah they were cool at first, but after a while it was hard to look in a mirror and say ‘that’s me’.

          His hand reached his hip bone and with a small shiver he ran it back up, coming to rest it on his chest. With his other, robotic, hand he reached down and rested at the base of his cock just short of touching it. He sucked in his breath sharply, holding it for a moment and closing his eyes. He remembered how it felt to have Grif’s hands on him. His dick throbbed, begging for the contact he could never forget.

          Slowly he released his held breath. He moved his hands, retracing the same path that once set his skin on electrical fire. His hand wandered the expanse of his chest ever so lightly; familiar shivers ran down his spine. He ran his fingers over his collarbone and with his other hand he was running them over his abdomen; the cold metal skewed the sensations but the memory was vivid enough.

          He was slow and meticulous, retracing the path perfectly. He bit at his lip lightly to stifle the moans building in his throat. He traced lazy patterns across his collarbone, down and around his nipples, tweaking them in passing, then repeating. His other hand played across his abdomen, sinking ever lower. It would never be as good as he remembered; he bit down harder on his lip in frustration.

          He continued to play through the memory, nothing having been lost to time; it was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Slowly he stopped his hand at the middle of his chest and dragged his nails down it lightly.

          “Ah… shit…” Simmons cursed through clenched teeth as his dick throbbed painfully demanding attention. Slowly and carefully he ran his hand down and palmed at his erection. His breath came out stuttered and strained as he slowly rubbed at it.

\- - - - -

          Grif sighed in relief as he made it safely inside. Sarge was working on something off to the side, away from the base a ways, so he managed to get by unseen. Looking around, he noticed a distinct lack of Simmons and garbage. A twinge of guilt panged through him; most of the mess was his and Simmons always had to deal with it. The lack of Simmons was concerning. He didn’t see him over with Sarge, so where the hell was he?

          Grif took off down the hall, not bothering to call out; well, he didn’t take off, more he slowly trudged… He had no idea what to even say to Simmons once he found him. He didn’t even know why he thought it would be a good idea to go to see him. Everything was so fucked up and he was just tired. Today had been emotionally draining. Tucker wasn’t normally so harsh with him. Though he guessed he needed it; sometimes you just need a kick in the ass to get going.

          Maybe he had been shot at too many times, maybe that was the reason his memory was so shitty? It stressed him to no end that he couldn’t remember what the original reason for sleeping with Simmons was. He knew it had to be a better reason than the bullshit he said to tucker. Why did people normally have sex? It was usually based on physical attraction right? Grif stopped and silently leaned against the wall.

          Was he attracted to Simmons? He pictured him in his head, trying for as accurate as he could. The image in his mind, slowly warped into the image he had burned into his memory of a very naked Simmons laid out on the floor with himself positioned between his legs. A blush made its way to his cheeks. Yeah ok maybe he was a little attracted to Simmons. He shifted uncomfortably, which made his cheeks go an even darker shade of red. Yeah he might be really attracted to Simmons if the half-formed erection stuck in his armour was any indication.

          At least now he had a proper answer for Tucker next time. He wanted to laugh to himself but another sound caught him off guard. It had him confused for only a second before he could place it, laboured breathing and a slick wet noise. His breath caught in his throat, and suddenly his feet would not move from where they were. He wanted to run away, the last thing he needed was to be caught sort of peeping on something like this. But to no avail, he stayed where he stood.

\- - - - -

          Simmons gasped and panted as he rubbed at his erection, sliding down until he was on his back on the floor. He ground his hips up into his hand, craving more but intent on teasing it until he could take no more. He brought his still flesh hand up to his lips and licked at his middle and ring fingers, before sloppily taking them into his mouth to suck on them. He lapped and sucked, coating them in saliva. He felt dirty; he could only imagine how he looked laid out like this.

          Quickly he raised his hips and brought the hand down underneath him. He didn’t even like the feel of fingering but he had to take what he could get. He teased at his entrance with the two fingers, and had to choke back a groan. Slowly but surely he pushed them one at a time into himself. He breathed in sharply and his body shuttered, he palmed at his erection hard. He thought he heard something outside the “door” but he ignored it in favour of fucking himself on his own hand. With every move of his hips he either ground up into his hand or down onto his fingers both caused him to moan and shiver with want. He wanted more than just his fingers. He didn’t want it to be his own hand that touched his cock.

\- - - - -

          Grif could hear a steady stream of groans from the room and he had to hold back a groan of his own. His armour was so fucking tight, and he just wanted to throw open the “door” and fuck Simmons into the floor. He could only imagine what was going on in there and his face burned bright red at most of what he came up with.

          There was no way in hell the nerd should be allowed to make noises like that. The sexy fucking nerd. Grif nearly growled in frustration. It was starting to make sense why he had wanted to fuck Simmons in the first place, and it was VERY clear why he wanted to fuck Simmons now.

\- - - - -

          Simmons panted and sweat began to roll off of him. He was getting so close and was still so far from what he wanted. He gave up on just rubbing and took hold of his cock. He moaned loud and throaty as he fucked up into his hand and down onto his fingers, to which he quickly added a third to. It was amazing, still not as good as a dick but it was doing its job.

          “F-fuck…” he cursed as he picked up the pace.

\- - - - -

          Grif listened carefully, resting his head against the wall wanting to burn the sound to memory. A memory he would make damn sure he never forgot. His dick jumped and throbbed urgently when a soft curse reached his ears. He wanted so badly to touch himself, but he couldn’t; it would take too much time to get out of then back into his armour. He wasn’t prepared however for what he heard next.

          “Grif, oh fuck ah—Grif.” Simmons cried as he sped up even more.

          Grif’s legs nearly gave out, he stayed upright only because he was leant against the wall. He just stood there and listened as what was like liquid gold spilled from Simmons lips. Over and over all he could hear were short choked gasps for air, and his name. His chest clenched painfully, even more painful than his neglected arousal. It hit him like a sack of bricks, he could make a good guess as to why Simmons was always so mad at him when he asked about that day.

          Simmons let the name fall from his lips, he felt so good right now he didn’t care how wrong it probably was. He was so close, and just remembering how Grif had fucked him brought him so much closer. He tugged on his dick vigorously as he ground his hips down on his fingers below him, working them in and out as best he could with the small amount of room between himself and the floor. He fell silent with a choke and his hips jerked sharply. Cum streamed from his dick coating his stomach and chest.

          “O-Oh Grif…” He moaned as his hand stroked slow and firm, riding out his orgasm fully.

          Grif could have come right then and there hearing his name fall from those lips as he finished; but he was still mortified at his recent discovery. He was a huge dick, a complete asshole, and he really needed to leave before Simmons caught him. He willed his legs to move and as quick as he could he hobbled down the hall and away, he needed to find somewhere to hide to both think about things and take care of his erection.

          Simmons dropped his head to the side and panted; that was the hardest he’d come in a long time. Slowly he removed his fingers from inside himself, his hips dropped and he felt empty after being so full. Shame burned at the edges of his mind as the high slowly wore off. He heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway, but it was getting quieter. Simmons’ face lit up, the blush spread all the way to his ears and down his neck. Had someone walked by while he was doing this?

          “Oh god I hope no one heard me…” He muttered in mild terror.

          He sat up as quickly as he could and set to cleaning up and getting out of here. What if it was Sarge and he’d heard him? That would be so humiliating. Simmons didn’t even spare a thought to if it was Grif; he almost wanted to die at the thought of thinking about it. He was normally so careful about making sure he absolutely could not be caught. Today he just couldn’t control his voice, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to.

\- - - - -

          Grif slid the makeshift door, which was more of a barricade than anything, closed. He struggled to remove his armour, god he was getting fat. It didn’t help that his thoughts were elsewhere as his mind reeled at his discovery. Maybe he should have been a little more open about his attraction to Simmons, beyond that one time they had sex… With a grunt he managed to slide himself out of his chest piece.  It would have been easier to figure out if Simmons had let something like this slip sooner; with a shake of his head Grif dismissed that thought quickly. No, this wasn’t Simmons’ fault. This was all on him, and like usual, Simmons was the one dealing with it.

          There was now a very big possibility that THAT had meant more to Simmons than it did to Grif. Grif huffed as he unclipped his boots; that was to be determined he corrected himself. But normally you don’t masturbate to your friends unless you have feelings for them right? It wasn’t like jacking it to a celebrity; the familiarity made it something more. Right?

          He had no idea. The same could be said for being attracted enough to your friend to have sex with them. He tossed his helmet off to the side in the general direction he had been throwing the rest of his armour. This little cave was handy when he wanted to get away from everyone, the only other person to know it was here was Tucker and he only showed up when invited. It was similar to the cave they had found on the “blue side” only Wash had found them at that one; it wasn’t as well hidden.

          Grif paused in his fighting of the under-armour-morph-suit-thing that he managed to pull down slightly, it bunched up under his armpits. Did that mean he liked Simmons? There was no way, he shrugged wrenching the suit off of him now just past his muffin-top. Right, absolutely no way. A short while ago he couldn’t even say he was attracted to him! He stepped out of the tight suit and sighed with contentment, it felt so nice to be free of all that constriction.

          He sat himself down on his sort-of couch, which were sandbags in the shape of a couch covered in a blanket. He leant his head back and stared up at the rock ceiling. But there was probably something to be said about the fact that he was attracted to Simmons and back then he was in fact, just as attracted. He rubbed at his face with his hands with a groan. Yeah he just dug himself an even deeper grave.

          “I’m out of my fucking mind,” he said aloud to himself, the sound muffed by his hands.

          Grif slowly dragged his hands down his face, he could at least be happy he’s making progress in this after years of nothing. Even if it was only things on his side it was better than nothing. And it would be that much easier to figure out Simmons once he had all his ducks in a row. All he had to do now is answer one more pressing question, why DID he kiss Simmons? Why do people kiss? Greetings, affection, lo—romantic feelings. Grif flushed slightly; maybe it was just because that’s what people do during sex. He was physically attracted to Simmons and that’s why everything happened the way it did.

          He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and lowered his head to rest it in his hands. Even just thinking like that made him feel like a liar. But it was true. There was no way he could like Simmons like that. That much had to be true, otherwise how the hell did he manage to forget something like that? He was a bit dumb yeah, but he wasn’t that bad. Was he? Grif sighed deeply; this was a hell of a day. A little stress relief was in order he thought with a grin. The grin quickly fell from his face when he realized that while he was thinking his erection had completely gone away.

          Grif sighed dramatically “Just great.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

          “And then my boner was gone,” Grif finished, having recounted his discovery and process.

          “I’m guessing you haven’t talked to him about all this yet, have you?” Tucker asked.

          “Of course not!” Grif cried nearly dropping the piece of his gun he had in his hand. “It’s not like I can talk about something like this with him out of the blue.”

          “You can talk to me about this out of the blue! We’re just cleaning our fucking guns and you start spewing feelings!” Tucker complained half-heartedly, he didn’t really mind but hell if he wasn’t going to give him a hard time anyway.

          Grif glared pointedly at Tucker. “How are things going with Agent Cranky-Bitch?”

          “They’d be going a lot better if he wasn’t so uptight and an asshole, also a bossy dick. And on top of that we’re walking on egg shells because of fucking Freckles.” He huffed.

          “I can’t believe you guys let Caboose keep that thing,” Grif muttered as he began reassembling his rifle.

          “Dude it’s a giant robot, I’m not going to tell it to get lost! As shitty as it is right now I like my life!” Tucker cried. “Fuck that.”

          They put their rifles back together in silence.

\- - - - -

          “Ok Freckles, today we are going to teach you how to fetch!” Caboose said cheerfully holding up the tennis ball.

          The Mantis turned and faced Caboose.

          “Freckles, FETCH!” Caboose yelled throwing the ball.

          “Acquiring Target.” The Mantis shot the ball from the air.

          “… Let’s, try this again… With, less of the shooting…” Caboose suggested.

\- - - - -

          “Going back to your problems, I still really don’t get why you kissed him.” Tucker said cocking the last piece of the rifle into place.

          “I told you it was heat of the moment! Kissing is just what people do!” Grif tried, explaining it no better than the first time.

          “He was very specific in telling you not to, that’s kind of rude.” Tucker jabbed at him again, god this was stupid.

          Grif shoved him. “No what’s rude is kissing back then running away.”

          “You’re seriously going to try and play the victim still?” Tucker barked at him.

          He glared hard at Grif, god he was so fucking stupid sometimes. He was happy they didn’t have their helmets on so Grif could see the look he was giving him. As glad as he was that Grif had made progress, he was pretty sick of him ignoring the other half to this. It was good that Grif had talked to him first and not Simmons.

          Grif shrunk into himself. Tucker could be very authoritative when he wanted to be. He wanted to fight back but all that would do is make him look like more of an ass. He stood up and slung his gun to his back, grabbing his helmet from beside where he was sitting.

          “I should go…” he said shifting uncomfortably.

          “Not yet.” Tucker said hotly.

          He got to his feet and was in front of Grif before he could even process what he had said. Tucker grabbed Grif’s hips and shoved him back, following along until his back hit rock and he was forced to half sit dropping his helmet to the ground with a soft thud. He looked up at Tucker wearily he wanted to ask him what the hell was wrong with him but the thought derailed as he felt the hands move from his hips to his cheeks.

          “What are you--?” he started but was cut short when he was pulled face first forward.

          Tucker crashed their lips together with all the force he could muster. He slid his grip from Grif’s cheeks to the back of his head, holding him so he couldn’t get away. He pulled away only to dive back deeper than before. Using his knee he forced himself between Grif’s legs, the codpieces of their armour ground together the material groaning in protest. Grif tried to suck in a breath at the action but all he was met with was smooth lips and a hot tongue.

          Grif struggled, he had no idea what going on but he knew that it was wrong and gross and needed to stop. Grif grabbed at Tucker’s shoulders and attempted to push him away, to no avail. He could feel himself getting swept away by Tucker, so maybe some of his bragging had merit. But now really wasn’t the time, it would never be the time to be kissing Tucker. Pulling away for air, but not stopping his assault Tucker took Grif’s lower lip and nipped at it lightly. Despite himself Grif groaned into Tucker’s mouth and he could feel him smirk against his lips.

          “Oh, well uh,” Wash cleared his throat with a cough. “When you’re done, Tucker we have some things to discuss.”

          Tucker pulled away from Grif with a soft sigh catching his breath before looking back to Wash. “Like what?”

          “Like why you aren’t running laps, for starters.” Wash said as evenly as he could.

          “I hate you so much,” Tucker mumbled under his breath.

          Snatching up Grif’s fallen helmet he shoved it into Grif’s stomach, probably harder than needed. Leaning in he whispered into his ear, “That was heat of the moment; I just felt like doing whatever I wanted.”

          Grif tried to catch his breath; it was made harder after getting winded by the helmet. He wanted to punch Tucker so badly. He settled on glaring at his back as he walked away with Wash. He could have just said something instead of making things uncomfortable for everyone. Grif heaved a heavy sigh, understanding the message loud and pretty damn clear. He was an absolute dick.

          He put his helmet back on and made his way back to base, praying he could forget that that kiss had ever happened.

\- - - - - - - - - -

          “Looks like now you don’t have to worry about me harping on you to do drills,” Wash spat.

          “Shut up.”

          “Caboose is going to be a great leader.” Wash said wistfully, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

          “Shut. Up.”

          “You might actually get away with fucking around with Grif now,” he finished bitterly.

          “Oh my god. FUCK! OFF!” Tucker yelled directly into Wash’s face.

          “What do you mean fucking around with Grif?” Simmons asked, his voice quiet this being the first thing other than complaining about wanting to go home he’d said this whole time.

          “I caught Tucker and Grif in a compromising situation earlier.” Wash said dryly, pointedly looking at Tucker.

          Tucker scowled, “Compromising my ass, mind your own fucking business!”

          “Oh…” Simmons redirected his attention to the floor. “I didn’t realize you two were like that.”

          “We’re not. Wash is just being a dick.” Tucker said quickly, daring Wash to say anything else.

          “I wasn’t aware that sticking your tongue down someone’s throat was common between friends.”

          “Listen Jack-ass you keep talking and I’m going to shove YOUR tongue down your OWN throat.” Tucker growled, nearly vibrating with anger. Wash was going to fuck up everything, just for the sake of being a prick.

          Wash spared a glance over to Simmons and felt instantly guilty. He’d spent all this time trying to help them and he might have just fucked up royally. “We’ll talk later.”

          “Like hell.” Tucker scoffed.

          “Tucker…” Wash hissed.

          The distant sound of mechanical nightmare getting closer caught their attention.

          “This is it. This is rock bottom.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker tries to smooth things over with Simmons.  
> Freelancers invade the canyon, they're in a debatable state of "saved"  
> Grif and Simmons finally get a chance to talk about shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow dang hey guys sorry this took so long!  
> I don't want to ramble too much because I know you're all eager to read!  
> Once again HUGE shout-out to my beta [Jey](http://godiscobalt.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: OKAY THEN looks like ao3 won't let me do first line indents, that will be fixed as soon as I figure out how :c

“Dude, seriously, let me talk to you,” Tucker trailed after Simmons down the hall of the base; he had been pleading with him for over an hour.

“It’s fine. It’s really none of my business if you and Grif are seeing each other. You’re both adults and are able to make choices for yourselves,” Simmons tried to assure him, his voice wavering.

“You REALLY don’t understand and you’re obviously not handling this very well, let me explain!” Tucker was about one hundred and ten percent done; helping this disaster of a relationship happen was taking way more effort than it was worth.

Simmons stopped dead in his tracks, causing Tucker to walk into him and stumble.

“Fine then, tell me what is so hard to understand about all this? Please, enlighten me as to what exactly I’m missing here!” He turned to face him, seething. “Washington made it pretty clear as to what was going on.”

Tucker was taken aback at the force of his words. Simmons was usually more subservient. He knew he had to choose his words carefully; talking with Wash earlier didn’t go very well at first and, to be fair, didn’t end well either. He could see Simmons visibly shaking. He felt like even more of an ass, which should not have been possible given how awful he felt about everything already.

“Look, it’s not what you think. Grif and I are just friends. We hang out and talk most of the time, or like, clean our guns. He smuggles me snacks and I give him advice. That kind of thing. We are NOT ‘seeing each other,’ I swear,” Tucker leaned against the wall and pulled off his helmet with a sigh.

Tucker hoped that he sounded convincing; he really didn’t want Simmons to think he was invading on him and his “relationship” because it was the complete opposite. Simmons was completely still and didn’t make a sound. Tucker found himself holding his breath, waiting for him to react.

“So… you didn’t kiss him?” Simmons visibly sagged, his tone took a brighter note. “That’s a relief.”

“Uh… No, I did kiss him,” Tucker admitted sheepishly.

“WHAT!?”

\- - - - -

“This would be so much easier with the future cubes,” Grif groaned pulling off another sheet of armour plating from the giant mech.

“There is no way to know if those things are safe. Look, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to base,” Doc tried to sound confident, but this was tedious and hard and pretty well pointless.

“Future cubes…” Grif muttered under his breath sadly. He just wanted to play with them.

“So how are things going with you and Tucker?” Doc asked airily.

“What?” Grif dropped the heavy piece of metal he was holding and gaped at Doc.

“You spend every free moment over with the blues or sleeping and I’m just guessing that you’re not there for Caboose or Agent Washington.”

“You’re wrong! We’re just friends!” Grif blurted out quickly his words stringing together in an almost indecipherable mess.

“Oh, did you want to talk about it?” Doc gave Grif a side-glance.

“Not really,” Grif huffed “But there’s no way I’m letting you keep thinking that so let me to explain.”

“Wow you really are insecure; it’s okay to be gay,” Doc spoke softly and professionally, “I have some pamphlets back at base we could look at together.”

“Shut up, fuck you,” Grif glared hard at him. “Look, we’re just friends; he’s just been giving me some advice on something recently so we’ve been hanging out more.”

“Advice on what?” Doc asked pulling apart the piston joint with a soft grunt.

“Uh… Relationship stuff… I guess?” Grif shrugged, close enough.

“Oh, are you sure Tucker is really the best person for that? The healthiest relationship he’s had is the one where he got pregnant with an alien baby.” Doc asked warily.

“His kid lived and grew up to be a war diplomat,” Grif pointed out “And he has actually given me some good advice.”

“Alright, if you’re sure…” Doc turned back to the mechanical monstrosity that Sarge had ordered them to bring back to base for him. “You know you can always talk to me and Donut if you need anything.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Grif grimaced to himself at the thought, that would not be a comfortable conversation.

They fell into silence as they dismantled the giant mechanical beast for transport.

\- - - - -

Tucker stared across the table at his “teammate”, the ice pack he had pressed firm against his cheek, burned cold. His brows were knit together, the dark brown making the piercing stare of his blue eyes seem sharper. Across the table Simmons kept his gaze in his lap, his hands idly prodding his helmet that was placed on the table in front of him. Tucker wanted to yell and scream at him for the punch, but he was fairly certain he deserved it.

“Are you calm now?” Tucker cringed as each word brought a new pain to his cheek.

“Why did you kiss him?” Simmons asked instead of answering.

“Why did you?” he couldn’t help the bite to his tone.

Simmons gaze shot up from his lap so fast he would have been worried about whiplash if not for the cyborg thing. The anger bubbling up to his throat straightened his back up; he was surprised he didn’t spit fire out of his mouth instead of words. But words escaped him. His tongue felt like a brick in his mouth, his throat constricted on itself.

“How do you know about that?” he asked quietly with venom spilling from every word.

“He told me about _that_ , not everything but the important parts I know,” Tucker’s voice was hard and even, as was his gaze that never lost contact with Simmons’.

“Why would he tell you about that?! That’s private! It was a mistake, a really embarrassing mistake! You haven’t told anyone right? Oh god you probably told Washington didn’t you?! This is terrible!” the words flooded out of Simmons like rapids over a waterfall.

“Dude, calm down. I didn’t tell Wash. We only talked between the two of us. He needed advice and he got it, but I needed to know what we were dealing with.” Tucker sighed “Look, calm down, and do me a favour—-“

“I’m not doing a favour for you! Why should I?” Simmons cried in outrage.

“Shut up and listen! NEVER say that it was a mistake in front of Grif.”

“Why? That’s exactly what it was, I should have never agreed to it because he was just making fun of me!” Simmons puffed up a bit, like a threatened bird.

“You like him right?” Tucker asked abruptly.

“What? No! I—” Simmons sputtered.

“That’s why you didn’t want him to kiss you. And why you kept your helmet on, so he wouldn’t find out.”

“How…?” Simmons mouth hung open, a blush spread across his pale skin.

“Sweet! I was right! Look, I haven’t told him how you feel but I’ve been giving him advice, taking into account that you probably like him. I made a point not to tell him because that’s your job. But, I never made any promises not to rat him out so I’m about 90% sure he’s in love with you.” Tucker watched Simmons’ face carefully. “He wasn’t making fun of you; he’s just too dumb to figure it out.”

Simmons gaped at him, mouth hung open like a fish.

“But I think he might have gotten his shit together, there was just one final issue…” Tucker continued but trailed off, wording was crucial because he really didn’t want to get punched again.

“Why kissing was such a big deal…” Simmons finished for him.

“Exactly. He was being dense about it and was complaining that he didn’t know why you were so hurt so I showed him how it feels to be kissed against your will.” Tucker thought a half second before fixing his comment. “He got it after and there were no hard feelings, but Wash kind of walked up while I was “explaining” to him…”

Simmons nodded curtly his mind racing to keep up with all this.

“He’s a dick but he’s trying. Talk to him if you get a chance.” Tucker gave a sigh that crossed between content and relief.

“Since when are you so mature and reliable?” Simmons asked.

“We’re at war Simmons, it’s not like I want to but sometimes we have to be.”

\- - - - -

“I WANNA USE THE FUTURE CUUUUBES!” Grif cried to the sky.

“Why? What’s the point; we’re almost done.” Doc rolled his shoulder carefully and stretched his arms; they were getting stiff and sore.

“We could have been done by now, that’s why!” Grif jutted his lip out in a pout despite being hidden by his helmet; his tone was a pitiful whine.

“Oh grow up,” Doc scoffed.

Grif huffed indignantly and ripped at some wiring, purposefully throwing some over his shoulder and down a vent. He was intent on making sure this thing would not function properly. One evil giant robot was enough. He grabbed an armful of metal and made the trek back to base. The same one they had been making all night. The same one that had nuts, bolts and various scraps of mechanics all along it, having been abandoned when it fell out of his hands.

His mind drifted to Simmons. He probably needed his bi-monthly maintenance soon. His arm and leg would probably need the joints looked at and his eye would need to be adjusted. And it’s been six months since he’s had his torso looked at so he was due for that too. Grif shook his head in attempt to clear it, with no luck. He was taking better care of Simmons’ body than his own, which was getting flabbier by the day. It didn’t help he was an emotional eater and this was all very stressful. Maybe he’d hide out and do a short daily workout routine?

Grif stopped and shook his head violently, this train of thought needed to get about 9000% lazier. Speaking of lazy; Grif laughed to himself almost cynically. Sarge was napping propped against a crate full of electrical components. It’d be endearing if him and Doc weren’t busting their asses to move this shit while he slept.

“Hey Grif, you dropped another big piece, he’s going to notice this one!” Doc called directly to Grif over the short-range radio in their helmets.

“What’s the point?” Grif sighed, dumping his load beside the rest of the stuff.

“Do you really want to listen to it when he notices?” Doc dropped off his armful next to Grif.

“That’s for future me to deal with,” Grif shrugged.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“This is going to take forever,” Tucker grunted shoving the concrete barrier into place.

“Relax! It’ll be fun! It’s just like decorating!” Donut exclaimed happily tossing a sand bag down.

“Just shoot me,” Tucker huffed.

Grif snorted to himself as he watched the exchange. Donut and Tucker together were the perfect comedic relief for this shit storm they got into. How the hell did they get into the middle of another war with freelancers that are trying to kill them?

Simmons looked on nervously, he was happy to be back with his team but here they were building cover for when they get attacked. Not if, when. This on top of finding out that Grif has feelings for him. What was he going to do? There’s no way they’re going to have time to talk about this! Simmons stopped short and stumbled at the abrupt static sound of his radio.

“Glad to have you back,” the voice said, it sounded endearing with only a hint of contempt.

Simmons flushed bright red and took a deep breath so his voice would be calm and even; he didn’t want to sound stupid, having his voice waver or crack.

“Thanks Grif. It’s great to be back…”

\- - - - - - - - - -

“When do you think he’s going to wake up?” Caboose mumbled looking at the floor.

“We’re still not sure, he’s stable but he’s not waking up.” The medic laid a gentle hand on Caboose’s shoulder “We’ll make sure you get to see him when he wakes up.”

“Okay, Thanks nice doctor lady.” Caboose turned and trudged out the door, leaving an unconscious Tucker on the medical cot surrounded by doctors.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“Today was brutal,” Grif groaned, stretching dramatically.

“Yeah, but it went really well. Tucker learned a lot from Wash,” Simmons tried to hold back his yawn but still ended up drawing out the end of Wash.

“Yeah…” Grif stopped walking and stared at the floor, “We’re going to get them back right? Wash, Donut and Sarge…”

“Of course,” Simmons said without hesitation.

“You sound so certain.”

“Because I am. We’ll get them back and make everything go back to normal like we always do.” Simmons’ voice wavered only a moment; he was sure they would…

Grif didn’t say anything as he continued following Simmons to their temporary room. All the rooms were either really small with two beds or a large communal bunkhouse with rows and rows of bunk beds. They were lucky enough to get a two-man room, the same as Tucker and Caboose. All the rooms where the same, two twin-sized beds that looked more like cots and a small wardrobe just big enough to house their armour as they slept.

Simmons was happy that they got a private room, no changing in front of an army of soldiers all in better shape than him and he got to talk to Grif in private. Win, win. He closed the door behind him and went over and sat on the bed farthest from the door. Grif flopped himself face first onto his bed, not caring he was still fully armored.

“So I heard some interesting things while I was with the blues…” Simmons said casually as he began removing his armour, starting with his boots.

“Oh yeah, Like what?” Grif bit his lip nervously.

“Like how you were over there all the time hanging out,” it took him great effort to keep his voice even, “And, how you and Tucker made-out…”

“THAT WAS—-“Grif tried to cry out in protest but Simmons cut him off.  
“He told me why he did it, don’t worry.”

“But… Wait, what?” Grif sat up and ripped his helmet off “What did he tell you?”

Simmons didn’t answer in favour of continuing to remove his armour. Grif frowned but took the hint and began removing his armour as well. They stripped in silence, taking off their suits piece by piece. Grif was nervous; he had no clue as to what was going through Simmons’ head right now. They kept stealing glances at each other when the other wasn’t looking; down to only their under-armour suits their faces were faintly flushed.

Simmons licked his lips nervously as he once again tore his eyes off of Grif. He was crazy there was no way else to describe it, he was out of his mind for thinking that this would all work out. There’s no way he was going to keep his head long enough to make this go smoothly, he was going to panic and stutter or mumble. He turned his back to Grif and started pulling down the impossibly tight suit.

Grif’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Simmons lick his lips and look away out of the corner of his eye. This was cruel. He continued to watch Simmons in his peripheral as he struggled with his morph suit. He REALLY needed to start working out more. He couldn’t help where his mind went after because Simmons had his suit down past his knees and wow he had a cute butt, Grif could think of a work-out routine he wouldn’t mind trying. WHOA! Grif bit his lip hard and whipped his head around to face the wall.

Simmons’ face burned bright red as he watched Grif in the reflection on his helmet’s visor. At least Tucker wasn’t wrong, that will make things go a little easier. He quickly changed into the sweatpants and shirt they were provided with, smiling at the fact that they gave him a maroon long sleeved shirt to match his armour. He moved his armour into the wardrobe and sat back down on his bed, waiting for Grif to finish changing.

Grif followed suit and shoved his armour into the wardrobe, careful to not disturb Simmons’. He threw on the sweat pants and sat across from him. The t-shirt they gave him matched his armour as well; he carefully pulled at the seams of the sleeves, turning it into a tank top.

“He told me he had been giving you advice on some things,” Simmons said, pretending he wasn’t openly gawking at Grif changing.

Grif paled and swallowed hard, “O-Oh…”

“So I guess I should say sorry,” Simmons looked to the floor and shrunk into himself.

“For what?” Grif asked confused, “I should be the one saying sorry…”

“For not talking to you about this sooner,” Simmons hesitated for a second. “And for running away instead of explaining.”

Grif held his breath without realizing.

“I didn’t want you to kiss me because... I knew it was going to break my heart, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to give you up if you did…” Simmons’s voice shook as he spoke.

Grif released his breath in one big rush and couldn’t seem to get it back. His cheeks flushed a light red.

Simmons got to his feet abruptly and crossed the short distance between the beds and stopped in front of Grif.

“I—“

Grif was cut off when Simmons’ fist connected with his face. Grif fell back onto his bed, his head was spinning and, oh gross, his nose was bleeding. He tried to sit up but was shoved back when Simmons climbed on top of him and smashed their lips together. Simmons wiggled a bit and got himself positioned, straddling Grif’s stomach.

Grif was dazed and it took him a moment to realize what was going on and kiss back. He reached up and cupped Simmons’ face, holding him into the kiss. There was blood getting smeared all over their mouths but neither one cared. Simmons’ was kissing Grif like Grif was air and he was drowning. Grif deepened the kiss more, the taste of his blood on his tongue made his stomach turn but it was more likely butterflies because Simmons was kissing him and everything is great.

The door clanged open abruptly and Kimball stepped in.

Simmons choked and scrambled off of Grif. He stood up straight and wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand. Grif stayed laid out on the bed; smiling dizzily from the punch to the face or blood loss or that kiss, he didn’t care.

Kimball smiled and relayed her message, “Wake up is at 6:30 and breakfast is at 7. Have a good night you two.”

Without missing a beat she turned and left with a wave, closing the door behind her.

Simmons was frozen in place, his mouth hung open as he gaped at the door. There was no way that actually just happened, right? There’s no way. He tried to communicate this to Grif with a series of opening and closing his mouth with nothing but mortified squeaks coming out.

Grif broke out into hearty laughing fit. He tried and failed a few times to stop before he managed to calm down. Simmons was half glaring, half pouting at him.

“It wasn’t funny jack-ass,” Simmons grumbled.

“Yes, it was,” Grif said with a smile.

Grif leaned over and grabbed Simmons’ wrists, pulling him back towards the bed. He slipped his hands from his wrists up to grab at his hands; lacing their fingers together as Simmons more or less willingly climbed back onto his lap. Grif kept their fingers entwined with his right hand and reached up to cup Simmons’ cheek with his other. He stared into Simmons eyes; one a beautiful yellow-green surrounded by pale skin with faint freckles, the other a beautiful glowing red surrounded by metal plating.

“Go ahead idiot,” Simmons muttered closing his eyes and reaching up, covering Grif’s hand with his own.

Grif smiled and brought their lips together again. The kiss was deep and slow, he wanted to pour all his newly re-discovered feelings into it. Simmons returned his passion with the force of his own. When they parted for air, Simmons rested his forehead on Grif’s. Grif tilted his head just enough that he could press a soft kiss to Simmons’ nose. 

Simmons breathed out a short laugh, “You’re getting blood everywhere.”

“Don’t care.”

“Dude it’s gross!”

“I know, still don’t want to move.”

“Why not?” Simmons demanded.

“If I move I might wake up and you won’t be here like this anymore,” Grif answered keeping his eyes trained on Simmons’.

Simmons flushed a deep red and averted his gaze. Orange caught his eye and he leaned over to grab the scrap of fabric off the other end of the bed. Leaning back and staring Grif in the face he wiped at the blood with one of the sleeves that Grif had torn off his t-shirt. Grif laughed and let Simmons clean him up.

Once all the blood was off his face and his nose stopped making more of a mess he thanked Simmons with a kiss on the cheek. Simmons flushed and slapped him on the arm, trying his best to hold back a smile.

“So where do you want this to go…” Simmons asked quietly.

“Anywhere you want it to,” Grif answered without a thought.

Simmons nodded his head and placed his hands on Grif’s shoulders, he hesitated and his hands shook. Grif stiffened; he didn’t want this to end. But to his surprise, Simmons shoved him down onto the bed. He followed him down and kissed him once again. The kiss was sloppy and 80% tongue but they didn’t care. Simmons grabbed at Grif’s shirt only to realize he still wasn’t wearing it. He instead took a handful of flesh and pulled him up as he kissed him down. Grif settled his hands on Simmons’ hips thumbs rubbing gently at his thighs.

“Is this okay?” Simmons breathed out as he pulled up for air.

“Is what okay?” Grif asked.

“ _This_ ,” Simmons emphasized by grinding his hips down onto Grif.

Grif grunted and tightened his grip.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” Grif groaned. “If you want we can talk about it?”

“What?” Simmons stared at him dumbfounded.

“I get that you probably don’t want to do this again without some sort of closure… So I can tell you that I might have liked you back then.” Grif spoke with an air of confidence. “And I can also tell you that there is a 90% chance that I like you now, the last 10% is going to have to come from you…”

“Oh… Oh my god… OH MY GOD YOU DICK! Why didn’t you tell me! The whole reason I freaked out in the first place was because I thought you didn’t love me back and were just making fun of me!” Simmons shrieked and punched Grif lightly in the chest.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t say ‘sorry,’ just shut up and kiss me.”

Grif smirked and willingly complied, pulling Simmons down and into a deep kiss. Their tongues danced against one another, Grif’s tongue was skilled at leading the kiss. Grif let his hands wander running them up and down Simmons’ thighs, giving gentle encouraging squeezes here and there.

Simmons pulled back to breath but he forgot how to breathe as soon as he opened his eyes. Staring back at him with such lust and endearment; Grif panted lightly trying to get his own breath back. Grif was sure he could be happy just kissing Simmons forever, and he was sure that Simmons wouldn’t mind in the least. Speaking of which, Grif leaned up and re-captured Simmons lips, giving him several short pecks all the while smiling.

“What,” kiss “Are you,” kiss “So smiley about?” kiss kiss.

“Nothin’ I’m just happy,” Grif mumbled into another short kiss.

“Dork,” Simmons laughed.

He reached up and grabbed Grif’s face kissing him hard. Grif snorted a laugh and kissed him right back, grabbing his ass too for good measure. Simmons squeaked into his lips and scooted up trying to escape the grabby hands currently manhandling him. Grif sighed contently into Simmons’ lips and ran his hands up from Simmons butt to his sides. He ran them along his sides and up his back, grabbing at his shoulder blades and pulling him down onto him. Holding him close.

“Are you good?” Grif asked, pressing his forehead to Simmons’.

“What do you mean?” Simmons tilted his head slightly.

“I know you’re self-conscious about your robot parts, I’m just wondering if you’re going to be okay with this still?”

“Since when are you so serious and thoughtful?” Simmons asked jokingly. “I should be fine.”

“I got a crash course in it,” Grif gave a short laugh, remembering Tucker’s lesson in thinking about Simmons’ feelings.

Grif scrunched his face into a deep frown.

“What’s the matter?” Simmons pulled back, propping himself up on his hands thinking that maybe he was squishing him.

Grif didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed Simmons’ hips and quickly rolled them over so Simmons was on the bed and he was on top. He pressed his lips to Simmons’ after missing the first time and kissing the side of his mouth. The kiss was desperate, all tongue and teeth. Grif bit at Simmons’ bottom lip between kisses gently. Grif never wanted to kiss anyone but Simmons ever again.

Simmons’ moaned into Grif’s mouth. Grif was heavy on top of him but it didn’t bother him none, he’d dreamed of being like this with Grif for a long time. He had to resist stiffening up when Grif began wandering his hands.

“Calm down,” Grif whispered directly into Simmons’ ear.

“I am calm, jack-ass…”

Grif smirked and kissed at Simmons shoulder, then his neck, his chin, before capturing his lips yet again. Simmons smiled into the kiss. Grif’s hands continued to wander, sending shivers down Simmons’ spine. He stopped at Simmons’ hips grabbing them firmly; he rubbed his thumbs in soft circles as he kissed at Simmons lips in little pecks. Then, he abruptly deepened the kiss, his tongue diving past Simmons lips to play against his. At the same time held his hips in place as he ground his hips down.

Simmons gasped into the kiss in shock, which died into a deep moan. He tried to raise his hips to meet Grif’s, but Grif’s strong grip kept his hips down. He was entirely at Grif’s mercy. He reached up and wound his arms around Grif’s neck, holding him down into the kiss. Two could play at this game.

But only one could win.

Grif ground his hips down again, slowly grinding himself against Simmons. Simmons groaned into the kiss, struggling to raise his hips and get more friction. He clung tightly to Grif’s neck; his whole body trembled with want.

“You don’t feel calm,” Grif teased.

“Don’t be ah—a dick!” Simmons bit his lip to keep his moan in.

Losing proved to be not bad either.

\- - - - -

Caboose laid awake in his bed. Tucker had gone to bed right away, but he kept hearing soft whimpers and sniffles. Caboose’s face dropped, he held in a sob of his own. Tucker was a jerk but he was the only member of blue team left and he was hurting. Maybe Tucker missed Wash the way he missed Church?

Quietly Caboose snuck out of his bed, grabbed his pillow and tiptoed over to Tucker’s bed. Tucker was tucked up against the wall curled up into a ball on his side. Caboose placed his pillow down beside Tucker’s and lifted the blanket up and climbed in. He shuffled up behind Tucker, hugging his back and held him close.

Tucker’s body trembled as he sobbed harder. He rolled over and shoved his face into Caboose’s chest and wrapped his arms around him. Caboose adjusted and pet the soft, tight curls of Tucker’s hair gently. Tucker’s tears soaked through Caboose’s shirt in no time.

“Don’t worry Tucker,” Caboose whispered softly, “We’ll save Agent Washington.”

\- - - - -

Simmons moaned his erection strained against his track-pants.

“Grif cut it out…” he pleaded as Grif kissed up his neck.

Grif slipped his hands under Simmons’ shirt, dragging his hands along his sides pulling his shirt up. He rubbed his thumbs across Simmons’ nipples, causing a shiver to rattle him. Simmons’ reached down between them and palmed at Grif’s bulge. Grif leaned his head down onto Simmons’ shoulder and moaned into his ear. Simmons’ let out a shutter breath

“You love it,” Grif laughed and kissed Simmons’ ear.

Simmons ground up into his hand that was still groping at Grif’s erection through his pants. Their breaths both caught in their throats. Simmons slid his hand around to Grif’s side and brought his other hand down to join on the other side. He grabbed at Grif’s love handles and pulled him down as he raised his hips to meet him, grinding their erections together through their pants. Grif kissed at Simmons’ neck and jaw groaning deeply.

“While you’re there dig in my pocket, left side,” Grif mumbled into another kiss on the lips.

Simmons shot him a disgruntled look, but shoved his hand into the left hand pocket of Grif’s pants and found a string of a couple condoms.

“Where…?” Simmons face went from disgruntled to plainly confused.

“Took some from the medical centre when we first got here,” Grif smiled proudly as he spoke.

“Oh my god,” Simmons sighed.

Grif gave him a hopeful look.

“Yes, it’s fine,” Simmons turned and looked away with a flush on his face “I want to…”

Grif smirked and pressed his lips to the exposed side of Simmons’ neck, “Sweet.”

Simmons left the condoms off to the side. He shoved Grif back and kissed up his chest and along his neck; before landing at his lips and kissing him deeply. Grif sat back a bit more, still straddling Simmons’ lap but it was slightly easier to be kissed.

“How are we going to do this?” Grif asked quickly, breathlessly, between kisses.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you want me to ‘top’ or did you want to do it?”

“Oh…” Simmons blushed, “Whatever I guess it doesn’t really matter…”

“Alright then!”

Grif draped his arms over Simmons shoulders and pulled him in, kissing his lips in several short pecks before planting a deep kiss on him. Simmons moaned into his mouth and grabbed his hips again, grinding him down onto himself. Grif pawed at the back of Simmons’ shirt bunching it up in his hands. Simmons brushed Grif’s arms off of him and grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it up, he got it half way off before he froze.

Grif placed a hand on Simmons’ arm, “You can leave it on if you want.”

Simmons’ let out a long shaky breath, and pulled the shirt the rest of the way off.

Grif held his breath the whole time; Simmons was extremely self-conscious and this was very important.

Once the shirt was thrown away, Grif leaned in and kissed Simmons on the forehead. He kissed his way down the metal side of Simmons’ face, along his jaw, on his lips. He kissed down his chin, Simmons’ tilted his head back and he kissed along his throat. Down across his collarbone, licking and sucking and the occasional nip. And once on each shoulder first his still flesh one, Simmons bristled and stilled. He then kissed his mechanical one right along where the metal connects to flesh.

When Grif raised back up to capture his lips again, he paused. Simmons had tears in his eye and his face was flushed. Grif gave him a lopsided smile and kissed the tears from his eye. Simmons laughed, wiping the smeared tears from his cheek. He reached forward and grabbed the back of Grif’s head, fingers tangling in the messy mop. He gave Grif the most endearing smile he’d ever seen and pulled him forward into a kiss.

The kiss was slow and deep, their tongues twined together and brushed along one another. Grif’s hands wandered across Simmons’ chest and around to his back, grabbing him closer every so often. Simmons kept his hands in Grif’s hair hold him still and moving him as necessary, demanding everything in the kiss.

Grif trailed his hands down, dragging his fingers along Simmons skin feather light. He reached the hem of Simmons’ pants and dipped his fingers under, tugging on it. Simmons laughed into the kiss and pushed Grif away. He scooted back and tugged his pants down. Grif helped him take them off completely, hands brushing against flesh and metal of Simmons’ thighs. Simmons shivered, in anticipation or because it tickled he didn’t know.

Now bared to the air, Simmons groaned at the lack of anything on his erection. It was short lived as Grif traced his hands back up Simmons’ thighs and took hold of his dick. Simmons choked on a moan as Grif slowly stroked him. Not wanting to waste another opportunity to touch Grif, Simmons traced his fingers along the curves of Grif’s rolls. He palmed and grabbed at him, learning every inch of his body every scar, every roll.

Simmons breath turned heavy and he struggled to focus as Grif continued to jerk him agonizingly slowly. He ran his hands around behind Grif, and down. He playfully grabbed Grif’s ass, as much as he could. Grif’s breath hitched and he smirked.

“Eager?” He asked shooting Simmons’ a look, accented with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Stop giving me reasons to regret this,” Simmons huffed.

Simmons grabbed the top of Grif’s pants and pulled them down past his butt. Leaving them like that he continued his groping, grabbing greedy handfuls of Grif’s ass. Grif grunted a little shocked, but not at all displeased. He draped his arms over Simmons’ shoulders once more, pulling him into another kiss.

Grif squirmed in Simmons’ lap as he tried to nonchalantly wiggle his pants down more. After a few tries he got them down enough that his erection was freed from the confines of his half down pants. Grif pressed himself forward and reached one hand down and took both their dicks in hand. Simmons moaned loudly into his mouth and gave a sharp squeeze to his ass, which he was still grabbing at gleefully.

Grif smirked into the kiss and gently began stroking them both. Simmons sucked in a shuttered breath around the kiss, his whole body tensed up and shivered. Grif stroked them both at an even pace, slowly yet just firm enough. They needed to move forward however, if they were going to get any use of those condoms he went through great effort to get.

With his free hand Grif reached over and tore off one of the condoms from the string. He placed it on the bed closer to them so it’d be easier to get in a minute. He broke the kiss and shuffled off the bed. Simmons looked up at him confused, and then flushed deep red when Grif shoved his pants to the ground the rest of the way down. Quickly and carefully Grif made his way back onto Simmons’ lap, now completely naked too.

“Are we…” Simmons hesitated to continue, he flushed even darker.

Grif didn’t answer he just smiled and grabbed the condom. He brought it up to his lips and using his teeth tore the packet open. Simmons watched him warily.

“Why are you straddling me if you’re opening the condom?” Simmons asked quietly.

“You’ll see,” Grif shot him a bright smile and kissed his cheek.

Simmons pouted but waited to let Grif do whatever he was doing. Grif tossed the piece to the floor and dipped two fingers into the package, leaving the condom alone. When he removed his fingers they were covered in lubricant, the excess from the condom. Simmons made a noise of understanding.

“Hold this,” Grif said handing the open condom packet to Simmons.

Simmons grabbed the condom tentatively, holding it like it was poisonous.

Grif took great pleasure in the look of utter confusion, then comprehension that went across Simmons face when he reached behind himself. With his not covered in lube hand Grif grabbed a cheek and spread himself, he lined up his lubricated fingers with his hole and pressed them in slowly with even force. A groan passed his lips when he made it to his knuckles.

“Did you just—“

“Yes.”

“Two right away?”

“Yes Simmons, this is not my first time doing this.” Grif grunted as he worked his fingers on opening himself.

“Oh my god,” Simmons breathed out, his dick jumping ever so slightly.

Simmons watched in fascination and sick arousal as Grif fingered himself on his lap. Simmons was painfully hard; they drew foreplay out quite long so this was a blessing. Grif’s back was arched, his head fallen back. Simmons took in the sight before him; the faint outline of the muscles that toned Grif’s body showed and Simmons’ licked his lips.

Simmons leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to Grif’s chin, he butterfly kissed all down his neck and across his chest. Grif’s breathing hitched and he tried to shoot a glare at Simmons but it ended up being a softer, lusty gaze. Simmons smiled into Grif’s chest. He softly bit into the flesh above his nipple, causing Grif to moan loudly.

Grif removed his fingers with a sigh, wiping the left over lube onto the bed. He took back the condom from Simmons and shot him a cheeky lopsided grin. He scooped out the condom and tossed the wrapper to the floor. Simmons held his breath as he reached down between them and took hold of Simmons’ dick. Carefully Grif unrolled the condom down Simmons’ length.

“Ready?” Grif smirked and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Shut up,” Simmons glared at him halfheartedly.

Grif barked a laugh placing his hands onto Simmons’ shoulders and shuffled up his lap, their erections pressed together.

“Are you okay with this,” Grif gave him a wary look.

“Shut up and sit on my dick already,” Simmons growled out through grit teeth.

Simmons punctuated his words with a hard, double-handed, grab to Grif’s ass. Grif choked on air and complied, sitting up on his knees more and lined himself up above Simmons. Simmons spread his cheeks and guided him downwards. Grif hummed as he lowered himself, he reached down with one hand to hold Simmons’ dick in position.

He rubbed the slick, condom covered tip of Simmons’ dick against his opening, teasingly rolling his hips. Grif’s face was flushed as he teased his own opening. Simmons was growing impatient, groping hard at Grif’s ass trying to force him to go down. Grif just lazily rolled his hips, sliding Simmons’ dick against himself but never penetrating. Simmons huffed angrily and moved his hands onto Grif’s hips; he pushed him down roughly and raised his hips to meet him.

Grif threw his head back with a shout of Simmons’ name, the whole length going in at once. His body trembled and his back arched. Simmons bottomed out causing Grif to hiss through clenched teeth. His grip on Simmons’ shoulder was tight; he’d have a hand shaped bruise for a while. Grif crumpled over and rested his head over Simmons’ other shoulder, panting heavily in his ear.

“That hurt,” Grif grumbled. 

Simmons made an unintelligent squeak, clenching and un-clenching his hands on Grif’s hips. He had never expected this to feel so fucking good. It was so hot inside Grif. He was going to die.

They stayed still for a long time; the only movement was Grif’s panting.

“You suck,” Grif huffed licking Simmons’ cheek with the flat of his tongue as punishment.

“Grif that’s gross!” Simmons shrieked furiously wiping his cheek against Grif’s to get the saliva off.

“So is sticking your dick in a butt,” Grif countered, rolling his hips carefully to make a point.

Simmons sucked in a sharp breath. Grif rolled them again. Simmons let out a small warble. Grif kissed Simmons ear, and trailed kisses along his cheek to his mouth where he kissed him deeply. Their tongues danced together, both moaning into the kiss as Grif continued to grind his hips down onto Simmons. The movement of Grif’s hips was no more than a tease to Simmons who wanted more. It wasn’t enough.

Slowly, Simmons laid back. Breaking away from the kiss he went back onto his elbows propped up so he could still see Grif but leaning back enough to give him leverage. He used this leverage to give a shallow thrust up into Grif. Grif moaned loud and throaty, his head thrown back. This spurred Simmons on and he made a slow rhythm of thrusts, slow but continuous.

Grif panted as Simmons fucked into him, he continued rolling his hips to meet Simmons but it wasn’t enough. He leaned over top of him one hand bracing himself on the bed the other cupping Simmons’ cheek. He planted a few quick kisses to Simmons’ lips and general mouth area. Simmons returned the favour, kissing Grif everywhere he could reach.

A good idea struck Grif and he smirked into a kiss. He raised his hips just high enough that only the tip was left inside him, and then he quickly brought them down to meet the short thrust from Simmons. Simmons moaned loudly around the kiss, reaching up with one arm and wrapping it around Grif’s neck pulling him into a deeper kiss.

“Do that again,” he ordered breathlessly.

Grif nodded and raised his hips once again, dropping them in time to meet Simmons.

They kept up the rhythm; Grif riding Simmons hard and slow, Simmons thrusting up to meet Grif. They kissed lazily, their tongues played against one another perfectly. Grif mixed it up, grinding down onto Simmons and rolling his hips between thrusts. The rise and fall of Grif’s hips gradually sped up. Simmons struggled to keep up with him in this position.

“I can’t do anything like this,” Simmons whined, pouting at Grif.

Grif kissed him chastely on the lips. He sat back and rocked his hips forward, Simmons groaned. Grif placed his hands on Simmons sides and pressed firmly, holding him down and bracing himself. Without any hesitation Grif began rapidly raising and lowering his hips, riding Simmons like a pro.

Simmons breath caught in his throat, several choked moans escaped him. He laid there and let Grif do what he wanted, he had no idea how he could do anything to improve this wondrous feeling. Grif panted heavily as he worked himself on Simmons. He slowed his pace only to grind on Simmons’ dick before picking up again. His head spun with pleasure, it had been so long since the last time they’d had sex and it was amazing.

Sweat dripped down Grif as he struggled to keep his rhythm. He wanted to go faster, he wanted more.

He wanted more.

Grif un-mounted from Simmons and leaned back, he grabbed Simmons by the hips and turned him over. Simmons was confused for half a second before he heard the tear of another condom being opened. He tried to prop himself up and look behind him but was shoved face first into the bed. Grif grabbed Simmons’ hips and raised them up, making him get half on his knees.

Simmons moaned and grasped at the sheets as a slick finger entered him. Grif worked his finger in and out in short thrusts, getting Simmons’ used to it before adding a second finger. Simmons buried his face into the hard mattress to try and muffle the noises escaping him; He had thought about this moment for a long fucking time and it was better than he ever imagined.

“Glad you’re not grossed out this time,” Grif gave a short laugh.

Simmons made an incomprehensible noise, muffled into the mattress.

Grif laughed and added a third finger. Simmons groaned deep and throaty, clutching at the sheets until his knuckles were white. His back arched and he pressed back onto Grif’s fingers, he brought his arms under his head to prop himself up so he could almost look back and see Grif.  
“I’ve… Had some practice…” Simmons got out between little moans.

Grif grinned as he rocked his fingers into Simmons, “Really? Did you think of me when you did?”

Simmons grit his teeth and flushed, “Yeah actually I did.”

Grif’s smile fell instantly, remembering what he’d overheard at base a few days earlier.

Grif gave a couple good thrusts to test if he was ready. Satisfied with the minimal resistance he removed his fingers slowly, and then wiped them off on the bed. Simmons shuttered in anticipation as Grif placed his hands on his hips, pulling him close. Grif leaned down and place a gentle kiss between Simmons’ shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry I took so long…”

Simmons nodded in understanding; he reached back with one hand and grabbed Grif’s encouragingly. Grif gave him butterfly kisses up and down his back and across his shoulders, everywhere he could get to. He brought Simmons’ hips back to meet his, he ground himself against the crack of Simmons’ ass teasingly.

Simmons drew in several shutter breaths. He bit his lip in frustration, grinding back against Grif impatiently. Grif gently smoothed his hands over Simmons hips and across his ass cheeks, spreading them. Lining himself up carefully he applied a little pressure, pressing his tip against Simmons ass hole. With a slow and steady thrust Grif entered Simmons with a low groan.

Simmons clutched at the sheets white-knuckled. Grif bottomed out and leaned his head against Simmons back; moving his hands to the bed to hold himself up as he draped himself over Simmons.  
“Are you alright?” Grif placed a soft apologetic kisses to Simmons’ shoulder blades.

“Mhm…” Simmons hummed through clenched teeth as he adjusted to being so full.

After a few long minutes Simmons reached back and tapped Grif’s arm. Grif nodded against Simmons’ back, carefully pulling his hips back. Simmons gasped and clutched at the bed. Grif rocked his hips forward, slowly driving into Simmons. Simmons let out a weak moan, trying his best to look back at Grif. Grif slowly but surely made a slow pace rocking in and out of Simmons.

Simmons rocked back as best he could to meet Grif. He bit his lip in an attempt to keep quiet. Using some momentum from his thrust Grif sat upright. He wanted to be able to see Simmons, and this was a better angle. He ran his hands along Simmons back lazily, caressing the contours of his muscles and the natural curves of his build.

Heavy breaths laced with moans filled the room. Sweat dripped down their bodies as their heat warmed one another. The rooms on either side of theirs’ laid awake in their beds faces burning in embarrassment. Light shone in dimly through the blinds on the window, it was enough that they could see each other and that was all that mattered.

Grif’s pace was now quick, long quick thrusts rocked Simmons into the bed. He pulled almost all the way out slowly only to quickly go back in, punctuated by increasingly louder moans from Simmons. Simmons knuckles were white as he gripped the sheets for dear life. This felt so much better this time, Simmons had no idea why but this time felt so much better.

Grif trailed his hands all across Simmons’ back and chest, playing with his nipples and leaving ticklish trails across his skin. He lost his focus and slipped out of Simmons, with a laugh he relined himself up and pressed in again. Simmons groaned deep and gutturally, he wanted to laugh at him but it didn’t make it out.

Grif huffed, this felt so good but something was missing. He caught a glance of Simmons’ eye over his shoulder and realization washed over him.

That’s what’s wrong.

Grif pulled out which caused a disgruntled whine from Simmons. Quickly he leaned back and grabbed Simmons’ leg and pulled it out from under him; with his other hand he guided his hip over. Now on his back, Simmons blushed an even deeper shade of red. Grif quickly and carefully lined himself up and thrust back into Simmons. Simmons threw his head back and his back arched off the bed.

Grif wanted to see Simmons, not just feel him.

He slid one hand behind Simmons’ back holding him up in the arch so he could place soft kisses all over his stomach and ribs. He quickened his thrusts, spurred on by the look of absolute pleasure on Simmons’ face. He had wasted so much time they could have spent “together” on being clueless, he had a lot of making up to do.

Simmons groaned pressing his head back into the bed as Grif’s pace sped up suddenly. He tried to grab Grif and pull him up for a kiss but couldn’t get a hold of him, his body being rocked too much to grab him. Now that he knew Grif also had feelings for him all he wanted to do was kiss him. That was going to make training hard.

Grif took the hint and tried to lean forward to kiss Simmons; but he couldn’t quite reach. Grif fell face-first into the bed; barely catching himself from landing completely on top of Simmons.

“Crap!” Grif quickly picked himself up, propped up over Simmons his hands on either side of his head.

Simmons just smiled up at him and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

Grif couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. This was perfect; there was no other way to describe it.

\- - - - -

“Felix leave them alone for the night,” Kimball sighed into her coffee mug.

“But—!”

Kimball shot him a look.

He snapped his mouth closed.

“I know that them keeping track of things is important but they need time to settle in. They’ve been through a lot.” she took a long drink of her coffee, silently daring him to fight her on this.

“Ugh! Fine!” Felix rolled his eyes dramatically, resting his chin on the table.

“And I doubt they’re going to be too keen on keeping journals.”

“I know,” Felix groaned, pulling at his hair.

Kimball pushed back in her chair and grabbed her now empty mug looking down at it with a soft grin, “Make sure when you wake them up you knock first.”

“Why?” Felix tilted his head in confusion.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She smirked “Get to bed; the night watch will handle things until morning.”

“Wait!” Felix called after her.

She shot him a short wave as she went.

\- - - - -

Simmons threw his head back breaking their kiss in favour of crying out. He trembled, his body was sore from the position he was in and he was so goddamn close.  
“Grif please…” He pleaded with him, pulling him close and nibbling on his bottom lip.

Grif smirked and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. He reached down between them and took hold of Simmons’ erection.

Simmons’ breath hitched, he clawed at Grif’s back urgently.

Grif tried to be ever so slow with his strokes, to contrast his quick shallow thrusts. It didn’t work as well as he wanted. He instead held his hand still and used the movement of his hips to rock Simmons’ into his hand.

Simmons’ nails dug into Grif’s back, a low groan escaped him. His breathing was erratic; he couldn’t catch his breath. His stomach clenched and unclenched painfully. He was so close. He pulled Grif into desperate kiss.

Their kiss was long, neither wanted to part despite being unable to breath hardly at all. Grif rocked his hips against Simmons’ furiously, he was getting near his own end too. The bed groaned in protest, the weak frame was not built for such physical activity. It made a quiet thump each thrust as it hit against the wall from the force.

“…” Simmons breathed into the kiss.

Grif made a short noise of confusion, he couldn’t hear a damn thing.

“Dexter…” Simmons whined again.

Simmons grip on Grif’s shoulders tightened his nails threatened to break the reddened skin. He kissed Grif hard, holding him firmly in place. His whole body was tense. Grif got the message. He tried his best to keep his pace and stroke Simmons’ dick faster.

Simmons’ body trembled, he broke the kiss and pressed his face into the crook of Grif’s neck with a choked shout. His dick twitched and jumped as he coated the inside of the condom that was thankfully still on him. Grif stroked him much slower, gently helping him ride out his orgasm. He rocked his hips in slow fluid motions.

Simmons threw his head back and let his arms fall to his sides. His chest heaved as he tried to get air back into his lungs. Grif continued his shallow thrusts, he was so close. He threw his head back and cried out. He rode out his own orgasm with a few more long thrusts.

“Grif?” Simmons looked up at him blindly, still hazed in his after-glow.

Grif groaned and dropped his head onto Simmons’ chest. He panted heavily against his skin sending shivers all across him.

“Grif,” Simmons whined, he raised his hips against Grif squeezing him slightly.

Grif’s breath caught in his throat and he choked on a groan.

“What?”

“We have to clean up!” Simmons grimaced, shifting uncomfortably.

“Just give me a minute!” he let out a long drawn-out breath.

“It feels so gross!”

“Stop whining, you’re killing the after-glow!” Grif huffed burying his face further into Simmons’ chest.

“No what’s killing the after-glow is the semen currently drying in a latex tube around my dick!” Simmons shoved Grif upwards… as much as he could in his current state.

“UGH!” Grif growled, “FINE!”

Ever so slowly Grif pulled himself out of Simmons. The sensation was, gross, at best. He carefully sat up, a bit wobbly on his knees. His legs felt like pudding after so much of a “work out”. He reached down and slowly slid the condom off himself, careful to make sure none got left behind or spilled out.

He repeated the process on Simmons, pulling it off slowly. With clumsy fingers he tied the open ends together in a tight knot, so nothing would come out when he threw them on the floor.

“You did not do what I think you just did!?” Simmons shot Grif the most disgusted look he could manage.

“I dunno, are you thinking about how I just rocked your world?” Grif asked sending him a cheesy smile.

“If I was not so tired… And if I actually trusted both my legs to work properly… I would kick your ass!” Simmons glared at him with a pout.

He tried to hold in his laugh. But the look on Simmons’ face… Grif burst out laughing. A loud barking belly laugh.

“Hey!” Simmons did not see what was so funny, “It’s fucking disgusting you pig! Put them in the trash!”

Grif sat back and stepped off the bed. He wobbled only a moment before shooting a playful grin at Simmons.

“Come and make me,” He tried and failed to keep the laugh out of his voice.

He backed up until he was on the other bed across the room. The one not tainted with lube, sweat and memories. Well, not yet.

Simmons grit his teeth and glared at Grif. Prick.

“Fine then!”

Simmons sat up awkwardly, his arms and legs were noodles and his ass fucking hurt. Determined he shuffled himself to the edge of the bed. It was about a step and a half to the other bed. He could make it. He thought a moment and decided it would be best to just do it quickly, get it over with. Grif sat with a smug grin across from him. He pushed off the bed quickly and stood.

He made it half a step.

Before he fell face-first onto the bed.

Grif had to bite his tongue to hold in his laugh. Simmons just laid across the bed face down. His cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“How did you ever pass basic training?” Grif snorted, failing miserably to not laugh.

“Basic didn’t involve sex before physical activity, jackass” Simmons mumbled into the mattress.

Grif snickered, “You are crudely adorable.”

“Shut-up!”

Grif grabbed Simmons’ under his arms and pulled him onto his lap. Simmons grunted in protest but didn’t bother fighting it, he let himself be manhandled. He was fucking tired.

“We’ll clean up in the morning,” Grif promised, kissing Simmons’ temple softly.

“ _You’d_ better,” Simmons huffed, kissing his chin because he couldn’t quite reach his cheek or lips.

Grif snorted and laid back, bringing Simmons with him. With a great deal of effort due to sore legs they managed to get the blanket over the both of them. Simmons elbowed Grif in the gut playfully before settling down half on top of, half beside him with his head on Grif’s shoulder. Grif pulled him close and kept his arm around him, sighing contently.

“So, are you okay with it being like this?” Grif stared up at the ceiling.

“What do you mean?” Simmons tried to look up at him, but he was too comfortable to get very far.

“I mean, most people wait and get to know one another before they have sex…”

At that Simmons propped himself up on his elbow to look Grif in the eye. “Grif, we have spent nearly every second of ever day together for more than 10 years now. If I don’t already know everything I need to about you I’ll be amazed!”

Grif pouted at Simmons dramatically.

“You’re so insecure!” Simmons couldn’t hide the laugh in his voice.

“Oh shut up!” Grif huffed.

Simmons laughed and leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. He settled himself back down with a content sigh as Grif pulled the blanket up to cover them properly. Grif hugged Simmons closer and kissed the top of his head. Simmons was too tired to tilt his head up again for a proper kiss so he kissed Grif’s chest lazily.

“Oh yeah Simmons…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> This fic will also now be on TEMPORARY HIATUS! I will be devoting my time to side B of this story until it's caught up to this one! After which they will be updating in alternating chapters so they follow the same timeline at about the same pace.
> 
> Side B will be Tuckington based so if that's not your thing don't worry they will both be written as stand-alone fics but some events will happen in both fics, but there wont be a big need to read both if you don't want to.


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